He's Going To Pay

When I finally get to the address Emma sent me, it's an old warehouse. The surrounding street is unusually desolate, a few people milling about but mostly quiet. I get out of my Uber and go up to the back entrance to the building, she said she'd leave that open for me. Inside the warehouse is just as deserted as the outside. It's eerily silent, I can hear water dropping somewhere above me, light streams into the boarded up windows. Beams of sunlight making patterns across the concrete floors. It's cold and dark, and a shiver that might be unrelated to the temperature races down my spine.

Emma is waiting for me at the entrance to an office built off to the side of the main floor of the warehouse. She looks disheveled, that's new for Emma. She's usually so put together in every situation.

"You okay?" I ask uncertainly. I'm not sure what to make of her like this. She gives me a dry look and huff a breath that blows the hair hanging onto her forehead back.

"You owe me," she informs. "I feel like I need to shower in Industrial strength bleach after that." She shudders and I have to fight a smile. She can be sort of dramatic sometimes and it's nice to have something familiar in this situation. It's weird that she doesn't seem remotely stressed or even concerned about what we're about to do.

Granted, she's done this with me before and she has the added benefit of being able to remember it. But it's so unnerving to be the only one unsure of what exactly I'm supposed to do now, or if I'm even doing the right thing. Maybe I should take everything we've found to the cops and have them take it from here.

I'm sure Haider would follow this lead once he saw that there's clearly something here. You'd have to be blind not to realize that Nicky Barnes and Joe Rollins definitely have something to hide. As much as I don't remember the night my parents died, I know there's a reason I feel like there's more to it than everyone always says. It wasn't a routine breaking and entering, it wasn't just a case of wrong place, wrong time for my family. There's definitely more and I know I have to be the one to find it because the everyone else has given up. They've called it a closed case but I don't see how that's possible when the person responsible for taking my family from me is still out there. Or probably, just in there behind that door.

"What's he like?" I ask Emma. The look she gives me tell me all I need to know; not a good person.

"He's interesting, I'll give him that." She tells me and then sighs. "Are you sure you want to do this. I don't think he's going to confess K, and if he doesn't there's nothing we can do. Well have to let him walk and there's no telling what happens then. He's a gang member, I don't think you want to be on his bad side."

She's got a point, "I have to do this." It's what I've been telling myself everyday since I got his name from Barnes. It's up to me to solve this because no one else wants to anymore. Everyone's moved on but I'm stuck. And I'll always be stuck if I can't figure out who murdered my family. "I need to do this."

I know she hears the desperation in my voice. I can see her expression soften, pity filling her eyes. I don't need her pity. I'm not some charity case, some sob story. A cautionary tale for the worst humanity had to offer. Yes, I've suffered some of the greatest loses but I'm done letting it define me. I need answers and I have to be the one to get them, I'm done being a victim of my circumstance. I'm not their damsel in distress anymore, I can't be… I'm going to save myself.

She nods and turns on her heel leading me into the office. The space is small, and lightless. The air is stuffy as if there hasn't been anyone in here in a long time. It's empty, and there's a thick layer of dust covering the ground and the tops of the shelves against the wall. It's been disturbed at the far end of the room where a dark figure is slumped against the corner where the shelf meets the wall.

My eyes fix on his form almost instantly. So, this is the man who ruined my life. It's funny, I honestly thought it'd be more dramatic than this when I finally came face to face with the person who took my family from me and irretrievably changed the course of my life. It's a little anticlimactic, there should be more than this. Some innate feeling of justice, seeing him prone and vulnerable. Instead, I'm just as angry as I've always been. The rage boils under the surface. This loathsome creature is the one responsible for my greatest suffering and he doesn't even look like much. Not like I'd always expected. I don't know why but some part of me had expected him to look like some fiendish Disney villain. Maybe it's silly, but I'd always just thought he'd look evil, meaning, maybe a little sinister. Instead, he looks like a bum.

His sweatshirt is dirty, clearly frayed and stained, his hairline has started to recede, and he's pudgy; with the kind of belly that speaks of his live for beers. This is the man that wreaked absolute havoc on my life and brought one of the most influential families in this city to its knees. Wow. I never would've guessed it if I'd have bumped into him on the street. Just goes to show; looks can be deceiving.

"Meet Joe Rollins," Emma announces in a jovial voice that feels out of place, all things considered. I take a fortifying breath, bite down on my anger and walk up to him. I land a swift kick to his abdomen and he groans but doesn't move, I kick him again and this time he stirs. Bleary blinking open his eyes, he looks dazed and that's when I realize that Emma probably knocked him out to get him here. He blinks again, and makes a disgruntled little sound. I watch his pathetic mewling for all of a second before grabbing him by the collar of his filthy sweatshirt and haul him into sitting position. My movements are steady and appear far more confident than I feel.

"Wake up!" I snap harshly, slamming his body back against the shelf behind him. He grunts but he looks more awake now.

"Who are you?" he asks, his eyes glazed over. Whether that's from his earlier blow to the head or if he's genuinely confused I can't be sure. I don't much care either. When I don't respond, he repeats louder: "Who are you?"

I tilt my head slightly to the left, I'm not sure what expression is on my face but I doubt it's anything pleasant. "You don't recognize me?" I ask instead. His eyes Darth back and forth across my face, trying to place where he should know me from. There's still no recognition, he shakes his head.

"What do you want? Why am I here?" he demands, tugging at his bound hands. It does nothing. If there's one thing I know for sure is that Emma was meticulous in securing his bindings, he's not going anywhere until I get my answers.

"I'll be asking the questions today, Joe." I say in a polite business voice. That catches his attention. "So, let start at the beginning, shall we?"

"Look lady, I don't know who you are but you've got the wrong guy." He says before I can ask the first questions. So, Joe is going to be difficult about this. "I'm not answering any questions, so just let me go." He says harshly.

"You're in no position to be making demands Joe."

"Do you know who I am, you little bitch? I'll kill you." I have no doubt you would if I have you the chance Joe.

"You already tried that," I inform him. He looks startled by the information, he's a good liar. "Didn't work out so well for you." I tsk at him like he's an ill-tempered kitten.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He spits at me. I nod to Emma before turning my attention back on Joe. Seems like I'll have to force the answers out of him.

"Here's the thing Joe. I don't believe you." I tell him, calmly. "You really shouldn't lie to me, I'm not in the best of moods today. So, here's what's going to happen… I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer and if I'm satisfied with what you've told me you get to walk out of here." In handcuffs I add in my head.

He just stares at me with a blank expression. Emma comes back into the room then, she stands behind me and my height hides her much smaller frame. She slides something cool into my hand, it's a wooden handle. Smooth and firm, cold against my skin. I grip the handle of the blade tightly and keep my attention fixed on Joe. He's watching Emma, "You." He says like an accusation. "You did this, who are you? What do you want?"

Emma silently steps away, he watches her never taking his eyes off her frame until she's positioned by the door again. She keeps her eyes on me. I bring the blade up into the space in front of me. "Listen Joe, I don't want to hurt you but I will. So, I suggest you co-operate."

He looks at the knife in my hand, and swallows visibly. He's scared, good. "What do you know about the Landry murders?" I ask. I just want to see if he's going to lie.

The question seems to catch him off guard, the expression look genuine but I'm not dumb enough to believe that. "Nothing." He tells me in a confused voice.

"That can't be right" I step forward and he follows the movement with sharp brown eyes, "Wanna try again?"

"I don't know anything," he says again, but his voice sounds a little panicked now. "Just that the family was murder during a break in."

"But you know that's not true, don't you?" I take another step, eating the distance between us. "You know it wasn't a break in, you know the real reason they were killed cause you were there that night." His eyes widen at that, he looks shocked that I'd accuse him. If I wasn't so sure of what I know and all the evidence I've gathered I might believe him. "Oh, don't look at me like that Joe, we both know you did it. So how about you confess and we can end this all quickly."

His expression grows increasingly befuddled. "What are you talking about? I didn't do that." His voice is rises with his surprise.

"Don't lie to me!" I shout, and he starts his eyes dropping to the knife in my hand. "You did it, admit it!"

"No, I didn't." he says and he seems like he's weighing his options for a moment before he says, "I was there, in that neighborhood. The night it happened…" he adds as explanation "But I didn't kill anyone, or at least not that family. I was on the run after we got hit in a drive by. I went through that specific neighborhood cause I knew nobody would think to look for me there. If I'd known how much heat it would bring from the cops when people reported seeing me the night those people were killed I wouldn't have done it."

Does he think I'm dumb. He expects me to believe it was just a coincidence that he was there covered in blood the same night my family were brutally murdered. Sure, that's totally plausible. "You've got the wrong guy, I didn't have anything to do with those people so just let me go lady."

"No!" I scream, my anger surging. My skin heats and I know I'm flushed, I feel my eyebrows lower over my eyes and I clench my jaw against the urge to just scream at him. I need to stay rational, I need answers. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying." He says, he sounds like he's trying to negotiate with me. His voice is reasonable, calm. It only infuriates me more. My heart beating harder, faster. I feel my temperature spiking and I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. "I was already questioned by the police, I had an alibi." He says and now he sounds smug. "If you don't believe me, go check with them. My alibi checked out."

"You're lying. Just admit it! You did it, you ruined my life." I tell him in a voice like cold vengeance. He seems surprised for a second before he gets mad right back.

"I don't even know who you are!" he shouts.

"You took everything from me!" I yell. "Admit it!" my heart hammers inside my cheat, it drowns out everything else. My breathing kicks up a notch and I'm aware that I should probably take a breath before I start hyperventilating. But I can't, because he's right here in front of me and he won't confess to what he did.

"I didn't do it."

"Yes, you did." I say coldly, "You killed my parents and my brother."

"No."

"You shot me!" I'm getting angrier, feeling more unhinged by the second and there's nothing I can do. I recognize the feeling, this is what I feel like right before a panic attack. I know I'll be safe because Emma's right here so if I have an episode she'll make sure I'm okay but I need answers before I let that happen.

Fighting against the dizzy feeling in my head, I keep going. "Tell me who sent you, why'd you do it. I know it wasn't just a burglary. Admit it, tell me why you killed my family!"

"It wasn't me," he shouts and I see red. My anger surges to the surface, my head empty of every rational thought. This scumbag killed my family and he thinks he can get away with it. He needs to pay for what he did. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him because he killed them and left me here to suffer. He's the reason for everything I've had to endure, I'm going to make him pay for it. He's going to know what it feels like to to have everything ripped away from you, and he's going to hurt and I'm going to enjoy every second of watching his demise.